


Used to This

by SwiftieWhovian13



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 4.3K words of fluff, F/M, Romance album, based on the song with the same name by Camila Cabello, super fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25364137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwiftieWhovian13/pseuds/SwiftieWhovian13
Summary: Bucky’s stubborn. He strives on set routines, the well known, the comfort of familiarity. You’re the complete opposite. And yet, you’ve chosen him. And he could get used to that.Originally posted on my tumblr: www.marvelsswansong.tumblr.com
Relationships: Bucky Barnes/Reader, Bucky Barnes/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	Used to This

**Author's Note:**

> This is like the cutest, most tooth rotting, fluffiest fluff ever. So much sweetness and domesticity. 
> 
> Hope you like it!  
> Summer

If there was one thing that his friends found slightly annoying about Bucky, it was his stubbornness. 

Maybe it was the fact that he had lost all control over his life when he was living as the winter soldier. Or maybe it was the fact that even back in the day, girls and other boys bended to his charisma and will so easily, that he wasn’t told ‘no’ very often. But whatever it was, Bucky didn’t like change. Change in scenery, change in his routine, change in the people surrounding him. He drank the same brand of drip root coffee each morning exactly at five fifty in the morning. He liked his freshly laundered clothes to be folded neatly and color coded. His morning runs were always the same distance, around the same buildings, and always left him about a half an hour to leisurely cool down, shower and eat breakfast. 

You were the complete opposite. 

He remembered being shocked when you’d drifted into the common kitchen late afternoon with mismatched socks and bicycle shorts concealed by the large box colored shirt draping over your knees, rubbing your eyes tiredly as you asked Bucky to make you a cup of coffee. He offered you five different brands and you just shrugged, sitting down with your legs crossed on the counter and asking him to pick anything.

“Anything?” he’d questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“I don’t care, anything.” 

Shrugging it off as you simply being tired, he didn’t think much of it, pouring you a cup of black coffee as you smiled at him warmly. There were days, after all, when even Steve wanted to just lay on his sofa and eat whatever and do whatever, not wanting to think about anything too much. 

But the more he watched you, the more he realized you lived your life that way. No real structure or set routine. You preferred to live life in the moment and be flexible to how the tide was changing. While he tensed up at the mention of a change to the mission plans, you simply nodded your head, welcoming a different opinion. While Bucky was careful of the image he projected onto others, you didn’t care, choosing to dance on the streets if there was a street musician playing or pulling on Thor’s hand during a gala and asking him to twirl for you. You drifted with the wind, sweet smiles and bubbly laughter falling from your lips wherever you went.

Theoretically, the two of you would’ve never worked out together. He wasn’t blind, he thought you were stunning the moment Fury introduced you into the team. The others weren’t, either. While Tony and Thor were shameless in flirting with you, it didn’t escape Bucky’s gaze that Steve’s pupils widened as he stared at you standing there, nervously looking up at the team through your hooded eyelashes.

When you mentioned that you were single- drunk on cherry wine and rambling during a team game night of “Never Have I Ever”- Bucky immediately thought that was absurd. Then his mind went off on tangents that night, thinking of how perfect you’d be with every member of the team. Thor’s optimism would meld well with yours. Tony’s humor, Bruce’s kindness, Steve’s conversationalism, Sam’s natural charisma. 

You’d fit well with everyone on the team except him. In theory, anyways.

And yet, you’d chosen him. 

* * *

“Metal man, can you stop being grumpy for 0.2 seconds?” Tony sighed from behind his camera, trying to adjust the lens to capture the golden gate bridge perfectly. The team had been invited to attend the opening of a new children’s hospital, and it just so happened to fit perfectly with a press conference that would be held in the same city: San Francisco. 

Bucky hated San Francisco.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. He just didn’t like it, and he didn’t find it anything that special. He had not-so-fond memories from back when he was a soldier, albeit it before Hydra, of docking in this city and trying to find his way back to New York on a couple of pennies and a gum wrapper stuck to his back pocket. People were unkind or unhelpful, there were cars everywhere blocking the road, and it was far too windy. 

The last aspect hadn’t changed, begrudgingly. Bucky silently regretted not caving in and cutting his brunette hair short, as his hair constantly flew into his eyes and obstructed his view no matter how many times he attempted to brush his stray hairs out of his face. It wasn’t helping that he had forgotten to pack his preferred brand of coffee beans with him, forcing him to drink the horrid hotel provided ones that tasted like dirt. The sun was far too bright, the wind was slapping him in the face repeatedly and he was running on three crackers and an apple for a rushed lunch. 

“I’m not being grumpy.” Bucky said finally, his tone dry and monotonous as he decided to sit on a bench under a tree, away from the vicious sunlight. Tony opened his mouth to argue but upon seeing Steve’s glare he shut his mouth and went back to snapping photos of the bridge, all the while Bruce was reciting some facts off of a tourist book. 

“Buckyyyyyy-” 

He looked up at your shining face, your hands on your hips as you cocked your head to the side upon seeing his frowning face. 

“The wind bothering you?” you asked, reading him immediately. He nodded quietly, deciding that words weren’t necessary. You pulled off a white cloth scrunchie from your arm and held it out for him to inspect, a wide smile on your face.

“Is it alright if I tie your hair? Would help you feel better.” 

Bucky didn’t like having others touch him. Even when Steve did, his closest friend, he preferred sticking to short hugs or firm handshakes. But he somehow found himself answering yes, allowing you to stand behind him and tug gently at the roots of his hair, pulling his hair up into a bun and tying it neatly. 

“All done!” you exclaimed, pulling out your phone and turning the camera around to allow Bucky to look at himself. “You like it?”

For the first time that day, a small smile appeared on his face.

“I love it.” 

He realized then that he liked it when you touched him in particular. Whether it was your soft hands brushing against his to hand over your phone or when your fingers were running through his to tie his hair up, he liked feeling your skin on his. His train of thought was interrupted when you sighed loudly and stretched, your stomach starting to feel empty.

“There’s a great bakery just a twenty minute walk from here, anyone care to join me?” 

“Sorry kiddo, but I’m beat from all the sightseeing we did today. Think I’m gonna call Happy and go back to the hotel.” Tony said, an apologetic look on his face.

“Same here. I didn’t sleep very well, sorry (Y/n).” Natasha spoke up from behind her sunglasses as Wanda followed suit in agreeing. 

“I can go with you.”

The words tumbled out of Bucky’s mouth before his brain could even process it, and as you turned around to smile at Bucky, you didn’t see the way Sam and Steve did a double take at Bucky’s words. Bucky was very particular about needing to have a shower exactly at 6:30pm every night, and if he were to follow you, it would go way past that time. But Bucky didn’t have space to be embarrassed when you rushed up and thanked him, grabbing his wrist and bidding your team members goodbye for the day. 

The walk was quiet and nice, your eyes excitedly taking in the night skyline of the city as the night chill started to descend. He subtly memorized the way your face lit up every time the two of you walked past a cute store, a vintage shop or a vinyl store, for example, and found himself caving in when you asked him if you could make a quick stop. Funny thing was, Bucky hated being patient. He liked getting things done then and there, crossing things off of his list. But when you asked to visit every new shop you saw on the way he never denied you, even going as far as to open the store door for you. 

“What do you think of this one?” you asked, stepping out of the changing room and twirling around in a vintage baby blue dress with a knee high cutoff. He looked up from his seat, his eyes widening and his throat running dry as his gaze ran down your legs in that dress. 

“Y-you look great, doll.” 

You looked down, a bit shy, before nodding confidently.

“Perfect. I think I’ll buy this one then.”

“N-no-” he stopped you by gently grasping your wrist, causing you to look back at him in confusion. “Let me buy it for you.” 

“Okay.” 

After buying the dress, another five minutes and you finally arrived at the bakery you were seeing all over Instagram. You and Bucky indulged yourself on some sugary treats, the owner being so ecstatic over seeing superheroes in her store that she threw in some extra pastries for free in exchange for some photos and signatures. Before you could even argue he took the bag with your dress and the heavy bag full of baked goods from your hands, telling you that he could handle it. 

The sky was completely dark now, the river underneath dark as the street lights emitted small bursts of yellow light onto the sidewalk. You proposed stopping at a particular bench by the bridge, far enough from the streets and honking cars but close enough to the city to see the skyline and the river. Carefully unwrapping the brown paper from one of the brownies, you took a bite, your smile widening at the heavenly taste.

“Want some?” you offered, putting the treat right in front of his lips. He shyly parted his lips and took off a bite from the treat, the taste rich and savoury. 

“It’s good, right?” you asked. 

“It’s incredible.” 

No words were exchanged for a few moments as you and Bucky shared the brownie on the bench, just admiring the scenery in front of you two. You eventually got up and pulled him towards the bridge, wanting a closer look at the river below. 

“You can leave the bags on the bench, Buck.” you giggled, noticing how he was bulking up to carry all the bags again.

“What if someone steals them?” he replied seriously. You just smiled, shaking your head sideways.

“It’ll be fine, Bucky. Come on, come look at the river.”

Maybe it was the sugar high you were experiencing from the brownie. Or maybe it was the blissful day you’d spent, just sight seeing and soaking in the San Fran sun. But when you looked at him over your shoulder, the sound of the river rushing by loud in his ears, you suddenly leaned over and kissed him softly.

He could still taste the chocolate and caramel sauce from the brownie on your lips, the sweet taste already addicting as his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer towards him. Your own hands found their way to the lapels of his jacket, his lips melding against yours passionately in the dark. When the two of you pulled away he looked down at the floor for a few moments, not believing what just happened, as your lips quirked up into a small smile and you spoke softly.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and he blushed. He took a mental picture of you in that moment, leaning over the railing overlooking the river, your lips slightly swollen from the kiss and your hair being ruffled in the wind. 

San Francisco was suddenly his favorite city in the whole wide world.

* * *

“Thought you didn’t like parties?” Sam quipped, surprised upon seeing Bucky stroll into the party Tony was throwing, his hair slicked back and his suit immaculate. It was an outdoor rooftop party, a party filled with two things Bucky hated: crowds and cramped spaces. But here he was, dressed to the nines and a glass of tequila in his hand. Sam sipped on his own drink, a clean cut bourbon, and raised an eyebrow.

“I also thought you hated tequila?”

Bucky was only half paying attention to his conversation with Sam, his eyes immediately searching for yours in the crowd. He spotted you, clad in a pink lacy dress paired with nude heels, twirling around to some top 40 tune with Wanda by your side, giggling and trying not to trip over yourself as Wanda tried to pull you down with her after falling over. Sam noticed his friend’s gaze drifting and smirked upon realizing what was happening, his tone turning smug.

“Ah, I see…. All for (Y/n), right?” 

Bucky opened his mouth to object but Sam just laughed, clapping a firm hand onto his shoulder.

“Come on, Buck, do you really think none of us noticed the two of you sneaking in and out of each other’s rooms and acting all different since our trip to San Francisco? Not that the two of you weren't clueless lovesick idiots before, but jesus, now it’s just headache inducing.”

Bucky nodded quietly, kissing the top of his teeth with his tongue, deliberating on whether or not to cave in. 

“Fine, you caught me. I came down here because she wanted me to come with her to this party.” 

Bucky stepped back as a new crowd of partygoers passed by them, pushing Sam and Bucky towards the bar for a refill. Watching his best friend order another glass of tequila, Sam cocked his head to the side, one question still left on his mind.

“The party thing I get but… coming down here for (Y/n) doesn’t explain why you’re drinking so much tequila all of a sudden? You hate that shit.” 

Bucky coughed awkwardly, his face heating up and his words coming out in almost a whisper.

“She… Remember the flight back from Boston a few days ago? Where we found Tony’s alcohol stash on his private plane?” 

Sam nodded.

“Well… (Y/n) and I drank some and she told me she liked tasting tequila on my lips.” 

Sam laughed heartily, only furthering Bucky’s embarrassment, but all that was irrelevant when you eventually strolled up to the pair and pulled Bucky down into a swift kiss. Your hum of approval was warm against his lips and you wickedly licked your lips afterwards, tasting the bitter and slightly sour tones of tequila on his lips.

“Tequila again?” you teased, your eyes lighting up in excitement. 

“Yep. Loverboy is whipped for you.” Sam teased, elbowing Bucky on the side. Your smile softened and you held out one hand to Bucky.

“Well… is my loverboy going to dance to my favorite song?” you asked as the song changed to your favorite one. Bucky tensed up slightly, his fingers nervously drumming against his drink.

“I’m not much of a dancer.” 

You shook your head sideways, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Come on, Buck! How different will this be from the slow dances we have in your bedroom?” 

He’s grabbing your hand and marching to the dance floor himself before Sam could get another snide remark in, the tequila in his throat burning as he twirls you in his arms, your dress flurrying behind you. He wrapped his flesh arm around your waist then glanced at his metal arm, hesitant to touch you with it, prompting you to wrap your hand around it and raise it as the song slowed to a ballad. 

Usually he’d be mortified by now, worrying about every step he was taking and all the eyes watching, but that all seemed to fade into the background when he heard you laugh, his feet clumsily stepping on yours because of his excessive nerves.

“Relax, Buck. You’re perfect.” 

The lights dimmed as if on cue, the moonlight hitting your hair at the perfect angle as he swayed to the music slowly. He decided then and there that he would always keep tequila in his cupboard. 

* * *

Bucky was territorial. He didn’t like sharing things much and he valued his privacy above most else. But with the amount of times you were over at his floor, the amount of hours you’ve spent in his bed both asleep and awake, it just felt… natural for him to ask. 

“Do you want to move in?” 

You looked up from your cup of tea, the same cherry blossom flavored brand that you adored mostly because of the pretty packaging, your legs hugged close to your chest on the sofa as you looked up from your phone. Your relationship with Bucky had been steadily progressing, you were the happiest you had ever been. He was kind, thoughtful and loving. He was big on affection, a giver, an empath. 

But this question really came from nowhere.

“Why now?” you questioned, curious. He just licked his lips, his eyes scrunched in concentration. 

“I don’t know, doll. Just felt… right. I want to move in with my best girl. You can come here, or we can get a real pretty apartment in Brooklyn. Close enough to the tower, but far enough for our own space. We could have a two bedroom, one bathroom house. Lilies on the windowsill. Your favorite cafe just a few blocks down the street. Maybe a cat if you’re up for it-” 

“You really thought about this, haven’t you?” your voice was soft, touched at the amount of thought he’d given to it. Bucky just nodded quietly, leaning in closer and brushing his fingers against your cheek.

“So what? I think about my future with my best girl a lot.” 

You laughed, setting your cup of tea down and teasing him.

“I bet you told that to all your girlfriends. Don’t forget, Steve tells me all about your heartbreaker days back in the 1930’s.” 

Bucky groaned at your teasing, cursing his best friend in his head as he rested his head on your shoulder. He looked up at you through the strands of his hair falling in front of his eyes and spoke with sincerity.

“You’re the only girl I ever asked to move in with, promise.” 

You hummed, pretending to give it some thought.

“What kind of cat?” 

Your favorite thing to see Bucky do was smile, the way his lips parted in excitement and his eyes glowed with such childlike innocence and wonder, and you’d never seen him smile so wide as when you indirectly told him that yes, you’d move in with him. He picked you up and spun you around, quickly kissing you before scrambling to talk to Tony about making arrangements to move out as soon as possible. 

* * *

The apartment was perfect- a little cramped, for sure, but still spacious enough for Bucky to be able to keep the leather couch he was in love with and for there to be enough cupboard space for your copious amounts of tea. It had a lot of windows, allowing natural light to penetrate the space and warm it up, and surprisingly neither of you had much to move in. It took a couple of days to unpack everything and decorate it to a style you both liked- Bucky preferred to be a minimalist while you wanted it to look homely- but no arguments went very far before one of you caved in and just agreed. 

The night when you put up the last decoration- a photo of you, Bucky and the team crammed into a trolley in San Francisco- on your nightstand, Bucky suddenly pulled you back towards him and kissed you, the kiss not unwelcomed but surprising. 

“Mmm… what’s the kiss for, babe?” 

He was gleaming, his eyes bright and his smile wide.

“For finally finishing our home. It’s perfect. But now that I think about it, you know what would make it more perfect?” he asked. You shrugged, not knowing the answer. “A bath.” 

A huge bonus to buying this apartment was that the landlord agreed to the installation of a large bathtub, one that essentially looked like a hot tub but functioned as a normal bath. It had come at a pretty price but Tony was quick to pay for it, joking that he was glad he was getting rid of the two Avengers that were annoying him the most. You pretended not to notice the small tear leaking from his eyes when you hugged him goodbye a few days ago, as everyone on the team knew Tony had a big soft spot for you. 

He gently tested the water with his flesh hand, his calloused fingers dipping into the warm water before filling it with bath salts and a bath bomb that smelled vaguely of lavender and citrus. He was the first to get in the bath, stripping down to nothing and sinking his body carefully into the pastel purple water and parting his legs for you to sit. Since the tub was huge, you didn’t feel cramped as you carefully sat between his legs, the water stopping right at your chest. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you right against him, the warm water and the sweet smells from the lush infused water making him feel more relaxed than ever. 

You both lied there for a full hour and a half, making small talk here and there between talks of what to have for dinner. 

“Thai or Chinese?” he questioned, gently brushing your hair over your ear. You looked back at him in fake shock.

“Is that even a question? Always Thai food.” 

He laughed, hugging you tighter and placing his chin on your shoulder.

“Alright, Thai it is.” 

When you started to complain about your skin getting wrinkly he begrudgingly let you out of the tub, soon following suit after pulling the plug on the drain. He leaned against the mosaic wall as you dried yourself off and Bucky smirked, shamelessly looking you up and down. 

“Stop staring at me, that’s creepy.” 

“You’re talking as if we haven’t had sex, doll.” 

You just rolled your eyes and threw your towel at Bucky, having completely dried off now. 

“I’m going to be in the kitchen ordering us some food.” you said, slipping your shorts back on. “What do you want? Pad thai, as usual?”

He nodded.

“Pad thai, as usual.” 

The delivery came thirty minutes later and the two of you devoured it on the floor of your apartment, careful not to spill on the rug and focusing your eyes on the small tv screen in front of you playing some old re-run of a sitcom you didn’t really care about. Once you were done and all the paper boxes were folded and wrapped neatly for recycling, you two sat down on the sofa, your legs lazily hanging over his lap as you cuddled into his side. 

Bucky flickered through the TV channels, trying to find something at least one of you would want to watch, when he landed on a rerun of a TV show you adored, your hand immediately tugging at his sleeve and telling him to stop at this channel. You were hooked, going along to every single word, but his gaze wasn’t on the television screen.

Instead, he was looking at you. The way the blue light reflected off of your eyes, the way your hair naturally flowed, your soft hand in his and your eyes starting to droop as time went by from fatigue. It was the same expression on your face when he’d first realized he might like you, a year and a half ago, when you’d stumbled into the kitchen and asked him to make you any kind of coffee.

He chuckled internally, remembering how stubborn he was back then. Now, he rose and fell when you did. His cupboard was mostly filled by your tea bags and tequila, some cherry wine in the mix. His closet space was cut down in half to accommodate for your clothes, though you often stole his boxers or hoodies- not that he ever minded. He was more carefree now, less afraid of the world, finding solace in you that he never did in his over 100 years of living. 

“Buck, I’m… sleepy.” you mumbled into his shirt as the clock rolled over to midnight. He nodded quietly, turning off the television and carrying you gently over to the bedroom. He checked the locks on the door three times (out of habit, of course) and drew the curtains in the room, while you slipped under the covers. 

“Buck-” you called out his name in the dark as he slipped into the space next to you, already pulling you close to him. He hummed, silently asking you what you wanted. You just smiled, burrowing your face into his warm chest. “I love you.” 

He’d heard you say it so many times, but something about hearing it whispered, tumbling from your lips after a warm bath and eating thai food on the floor of their new shared apartment, felt different. He whispered a “I love you too” back as you fell asleep almost instantly, your body relaxing in his hold. 

And he thought the same thing he thought every time you did something that made his heart flutter. When you kissed him by the river in San Francisco, when you begged him to slow dance with you at that party, when he walked in on you sitting on the couch of his residential floor at Stark Tower just sipping your tea, as if you already lived there. 

He thought:

“I could get used to this.” 

And he did. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! If you did, please consider leaving kudos and comments :) This is one of my most favorite fics I've ever written.
> 
> \- Summer


End file.
